


Fundamentally Flawed

by QueenofCamelot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofCamelot/pseuds/QueenofCamelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up without a soul mark was never easy for Arthur. According to science, to the universe, he wasn’t meant to be loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fundamentally Flawed

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Серьезный недостаток](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203988) by [Rishima_Kapur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rishima_Kapur/pseuds/Rishima_Kapur)



The procedure of revealing a person’s soul mark was still relatively new by the time Uther and Ygraine Pendragon brought their son Arthur to the hospital to have it carried out. Ygraine had always been fascinated by the idea of fated romance, burying herself in tales of star-crossed lovers, and love at first sight. It was she who tried relentlessly to convince her husband of the happiness the mark could bring to their child. Uther had grudgingly agreed after a few weeks, sceptical of all modern technology and medicine (“Things are advancing far too quickly to be safe.”) but eager to please his charming wife.

 

Uther gripped Ygraine’s knee firmly as it shook, trying to hide his own nerves, as they awaited the end of the procedure.

 

“I wonder what his mark will say? What if he can’t find his soul mate because his mark is too generic? I hope we’re making the right decision,” she said anxiously.

 

“Its going to be fine, my love,” he reassured her, kissing her cheek. “Do try to relax.”

 

She nodded, lips pursed, but her knees continued to knock under his touch.

 

The door creaked open and they both got to their feet quickly at the sound. Ygraine took a deep breath, taking for Uther’s hand and then smiled at the doctor as he walked into the room, her son cradled in his arms.

 

Ygraine’s heart sunk when she noted the grave expression the doctor wore. Her eyes flew immediately to her son, but to her relief he appeared perfectly healthy, his blue eyes wide and aware. As long as her family was safe, nothing could truly hurt her.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Pendragon, I am afraid I don’t have good news to deliver,” the doctor said, grey eyes downcast. “Please keep in mind, that this is very rare, and we’ve only had one other case like this.”

 

“Go on,” Uther said, voice brittle.

 

“The surgery was performed perfectly, absolutely no faults can be detected... yet, your son appears to have no mark.”

 

Ygraine’s hand flew to her mouth. “That...that can’t be. He must have one. He has to.”

 

Uther on the other hand, took his son roughly from the doctor’s arms and examined the child’s arms, his legs, his back… “You must’ve done something wrong, injected the wrong substance or something. Our son is not at fault here.”

 

“I am truly sorry, Mr. Pendragon.” The doctor, to his credit, did look very sorry indeed, his smile grim. “Neither your son, nor the procedure is at fault.”

 

“I demand another procedure, at no cost, to make up for the inconvenience we have suffered.”

 

“The substance can only be injected once. If we try again it could prove fatal. The human body can only handle so much of it.”

 

“How can you even call yourself a doctor,” Uther snarled, his face turning an unflattering shade of red.

 

“Uther,” Ygraine tugged at his hand, her shoulders slumped with disappointment, but her tone gentle. “There’s nothing he can do. He’s done everything in his power. We need to take Arthur home.”

 

The child in question had begun to wail, cheeks flushed with exertion and eyes filled with tears.

 

“I truly, am very sorry,” the doctor repeated, flashing Ygraine a look of relief.

 

Uther stalked past him, the infant rocking slightly in his arms, while Ygraine nodded at the doctor politely and then walked with haste back to her family. They left the hospital without a word between them, the screaming baby enough to make up for the silence. It wasn’t until they’d buckled their child in the backseat and were backing out of the hospital cark park that Ygraine began to cry.

 

…

 

By the time Arthur was nineteen, soul marks were considered a common human feature, as commonplace as having an arm or a leg. Almost every person, aside from the poor, the disadvantaged or the aromantic, had one. He’d grown used to being unmarked, and the sight of the mark on others no longer made anger curl in the pit of his belly. These days, he simply felt wistful. According to science, to the universe, he wasn’t meant to be loved. His bare skin was testament to that fact, and he’d gotten used to it.

 

That didn’t mean he didn’t date. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’d had his fair share of women, and of men in his time. True, it was difficult to find them, given most people tended to hold out for their soul mate, and if the first words you spoke to them were not the ones planted somewhere on their body they would turn away. But even some people with marks did not want to risk meeting their soul mate at seventy or eighty without having the slightest bit of experience, so they were willing to date him. He honestly didn’t know what was worse, his predicament, or theirs.

 

His friends were tactful around him, only mentioning their impatience at their own soul mate’s absence, when he wasn’t around, or so he suspected. The only conversation they’d ever had about soul marks in the seven years of their friendship, had been a couple of weeks after they’d first met, when Gwaine had suggested that perhaps the procedure had been carried out incorrectly, or two years later when Elena hinted that maybe he’d never had the procedure done in the first place. He knew both were inaccurate, having hunted down his medical records in an effort to make himself feel better a few months earlier.

 

It hadn’t.

 

They were both amazing friends, he couldn’t ask for better, but he wished they’d just accept what he’d accepted long ago; that he had no one out there waiting for him. Instead, he was content to focus on university and his future career as (hopefully) a police officer. Hence, why instead of shutting himself in his room and moaning on internet forums about not having a soul mark (which he’d done maybe once or twice, but that was years ago!), he was sitting in his first tutorial of the semester for English Literature. At their university they had all been required to choose units with utterly nothing to do with their major, and although most people found it a waste of time, like Gwaine (“When I’m arguing someone’s case in court, the myth of Achilles is really going to come up, isn’t it?”), Arthur found it refreshing to do something he found interesting without having to choose a career revolving around it.

 

Of course what he told his friends was a different story (“I can’t believe I have to do fucking English,” and “My timetable this semester is bullshit.”), they didn’t even know he liked to read in the first place, although he thought maybe Elena had her suspicions after she found a copy of _Good Omens_ buried under his bed, surprisingly free of dust and a bookmark jammed ¾ of the way through its pages, after she’d dropped her phone under his bed. Nonetheless he was excited to begin this class.

 

It wasn’t until the tutor, a balding middle aged man half Arthur’s height who as a result reminded him of _Professor Flitwick_ , started babbling on about university policy and regulations, that he first laid eyes on him. Sitting adjacent from him a couple of metres away was one of the most attractive boys Arthur had ever had the privilege to see. He had short scruffy black hair and a fringe that just fell short of his eyes, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, luminous skin and full lips begging to be kissed. Oh, how Arthur would be willing to grant that request.

 

Heart pounding, he flipped his wrist, hope surging through him like never before, but his heart sunk and he gritted his teeth. It was blank as it had always been. This outwardly gorgeous boy was not meant for him. His first words belonged to some other, not him. He placated himself, by thinking to himself that perhaps the boy was insufferably rude, or maybe even a homophobe but couldn’t quite supress the lingering disappointment he felt from gazing at his bare arm.

 

He felt his forehead furrow in confusion when he turned his head to look at the boy and found him staring back at him, his lovely mouth parted slightly. Arthur flushed when he realised the boy had probably caught him staring, but no…it wasn’t a look of derision sent his way…more of curiosity.

 

“Arthur Pendragon.”

 

Arthur snapped his head to the tutor, gripping his pen more tightly in his hand. “Here.”

 

He needed to listen if he wanted to get anywhere in this class, he hadn’t even realised the role was being taken.

 

A couple of names later, when the tutor called, “Merlin Emrys”, the boy shot his hand in the air, not saying a word. Despite his promise, he couldn’t help but look at the boy – Merlin – throughout the class, and had to chasten himself multiple times for doing so. Merlin wasn’t his soul mate, he had no right to look at him like that.

 

But oh he wanted him to be.

 

…

 

At the end of the class, as everyone began exiting the room, Arthur kept his head down, trying to scribble the assessment dates the tutor had given for the semester and looked up to find the boy he’d been staring at standing at his desk, a paper clenched in his hand.

 

“Er…sorry I didn’t mean to stare,” he told him without thinking, getting a bit lost in Merlin’s blue eyes.

 

Instead of telling him off, like he’d expected, the boy smiled widely, the corner of his eyes crinkling with uncontained zeal. Speechless, Arthur stared after him as he walked away. After he’d left the room, Arthur looked at the paper he’d left on the desk.

 

Unable to stop himself, he smiled.

 

It was a string of numbers.

 

…

 

Arthur had typed about a hundred responses to the handsome boy in his literature class, but had sent not one. Some sounded too forward, others too dull. He didn’t even know what Merlin was expecting from this exchange. Maybe he just wanted to be friends (Arthur really didn’t think he could take that if that was the case), or maybe, hopefully, he was a sceptic and wasn’t opposed to going out with Arthur. Either way, he had to send a message or else Merlin might get the wrong idea. So he settled with a simple “Hi, this is Arthur, the guy from your literature class. How are you?”

 

Not even a minute later, enough time for him to read merely half of a Facebook status, a reply flashed on his phone. He picked it up eagerly.

 

__

 

He grinned although he had no real reason to.

 

  __

 

Arthur shook his head, smiling.

 

 

Arthur hesitated before opening up further. 

 

__

__

__Someone special_ , _he didn’t say.

 

_ _

 

A shiver ran through Arthur as he read Merlin’s reply. It rang true.

 

__

_  
_

 

Arthur thought of the latest plot idea he’d had, a modern day tale of angels and demons, and had a sudden urge to put it to paper, more so than he’d ever had in the past. Not because he wanted to impress Merlin, not in the slightest. Merlin was just very inspiring, that was it.

 

 

It was silly but the realisation that he and the gorgeous boy from his class had so much in common, made him feel light and dizzy as if he was finally feeling the aftereffects of a beer or two.

 

 

He froze, feeling his happiness seep away like quicksand as he re-read the message. What was Merlin playing at? Why would he say something like that?

 

Certainly their conversation was going extremely well, but Arthur’s wrist remained blank. There was no changing that.

 

__

Arthur stabbed with his thumbs his reply, shoulders hunched with tension.

 

__

Arthur threw his phone onto his bed and tried to calm his breathing, hands clenching into fists. Of course he couldn’t have one good thing. It shouldn’t be a surprise, given all the shit that had been going in Arthur’s life that the guy he liked found it fun to mock him. Life loved to hate him, he should just get used to it.

 

He'd just thought things were starting to get better.

 

_…_

Arthur received no new messages that night, aside from a football comic from Elena, and resisted the temptation to send anymore himself. If Merlin was going to be a total dick, Arthur didn’t even want to know him.

 

Maybe he was being a little too sensitive, not that he’d admit it, but Arthur had a right to be. Arthur completely ignored his father at dinner that night, despite his curt questions about the semester and his friends, and switched off a Manchester United match he’d been looking forward to for days at half time. As he lied on his bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, he couldn’t stop thinking about was why Merlin would do this to him, how he could be so cruel to pretend he was Arthur’s, that Arthur had a soul mate.

 

It was worse than not having a mark at all.

 

He was considering going to sleep early so he could completely forget this day ever happened when he heard a knock on the door.

 

“Come in,” he grumbled, sitting up and wiping his eyes so his father would suspect nothing was amiss. It was very rare of his father to enter his room and he looked vaguely concerned at the empty Gatorade bottles, random articles of clothing and muesli bar wrappers littering the floor, but otherwise ignored them as he sat beside Arthur.

 

Arthur honestly didn’t know who was more uncomfortable out of the two of them.

 

“Son, I would like it if you would tell me whatever’s wrong with you.”

 

“Everything’s fine. You can go back to your work or whatever.”

 

Uther sighed. “No, it’s not.”

 

“No, seriously, its fine. I know you have a lot to do, as you always tell me.”  

 

Uther winced. “I know my job at the company has occupied much of my time, but I’ve always been concerned about your wellbeing.”

 

Arthur nodded, not wanting to argue further. “Its fine, I understand.”

 

There was silence for a few more seconds before Uther blurted out. “Has something happened at your university?”

 

“No, its nothing academic so you can stop worrying.”

 

“Your friends?”

 

“No, they’re the same as usual.”

 

“Is it,” he hesitated. “Your mother?”

 

“No!” he shouted, unable to contain it. He didn’t want to think about her; he was getting better at blocking her out. “It’s the stupid soul mark thing, happy.”

 

His father grimaced. “I knew we never should’ve gotten that thing done but your mother insisted.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

 

“Pretending she never existed isn’t going to improve things in the slightest, Arthur.”

 

“It would’ve been better if I never knew her. Doesn’t it hurt for you to remember her? Don’t lie to me.” The tears were coming back, this time in a deluge. This really was one of the worst days of Arthur’s life. Definitely not the worst though. Not by far. He could still smell the thick fumes billowing out of the pulverised car, the blood staining the pavement, her clothes, his hands…the merciless cold biting at his skin.

 

“Of course it does.” Uther was quiet for a minute, as if the same images had flashed across his mind. “But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. She would hate that.”

 

“I know,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

 

Unbidden, further memories flooded his brain.

 

_Her soft voice reading to him tales of kings and sorcerers, of pirates and captains, of heroes and heroines._

_Her blinding smile after he presented her with a positive school report._

 

_Her warm arms around him after he came out to her as bisexual._

_Her still body in the hospital bed, incapable of being roused no matter how hard Arthur shook it and pleaded for her to wake up._

“The soul mate thing,” he said desperately, in an effort to change the subject. “Do you really believe it’s accurate?”

  
“Yes. Too many success stories have occurred for it to be inaccurate, do you not agree?”

 

“So I don’t have a soul mate?” The thought didn’t make him feel any worse, he already felt bad enough. Numb even.

 

“Perhaps not, but Arthur, you need to remember that there are different kinds of love in the world. There’s parental love, companionable love, platonic love…even if you never find your soul mate, you will always be loved. I may not show it most times, but I do love you, I hope you know that,” he said awkwardly.

 

“That…I suppose that’s true,” Arthur conceded, not knowing what else to say. He knew his father was right, he didn’t need a soul mate, as much as he wanted one. He had his friends, and his father and that was enough.

 

“I’ll admit, I used to worry about you too, but Ygraine told me what I’ve just told you, and I know now, as she did, that you’ll be okay.”

 

For the first time in hours, Arthur smiled. “That sounds like something she would say.”

…

 

He realised looking over his text conversation with Merlin that he may have overreacted a little. While it was cruel of Merlin to pretend he was his soul mate, he may have just been joking around, or perhaps meant it in the less literal sense. He could see enough potential in their…whatever it was that he didn’t want to let it go so easily over his own sensitivity.

 

So he sent the following message: _  
_

 

_ _

 

The reply he received wasn’t exactly friendly but it didn’t condemn him either.

 

Although his sleep was difficult, he knew that this time the following night he and Merlin would be in a better place.

 

…

 

Waiting outside the lecture hall the following day, he kept his eyes open for Merlin, both secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of him and at the same time to avoid him until it was time to talk. It was a confusing emotion. He both dreaded their imminent confrontation and craved it so he could be done with it. When Merlin finally did walk into the waiting hall, Arthur was dismayed at what he saw. The boy that had looked so ethereal and healthy the previous day looked miserable, his shoulders slouched and bags under his eyes.

 

He fought the feeling of guilt that slithered through him. Merlin was equally, if not at more at fault than he was, and besides, he was likely sad for a completely different reason. He had no reason to be really upset aside from the fact that Arthur had been rather rude to him at the end of their conversation, and he looked far too miserable for that.

 

Thankfully, people began filing into the lecture hall before he could convince himself to approach him. He made sure to sit a couple of rows behind him when he finally chose a seat, not wanting to make things awkward between them (well, more so than already) before they even had a chance to talk.

 

Sitting in the lecture was the greatest torture of all. Now that they were learning actual content, it was vital for him to listen, yet he couldn’t help but stare Merlin’s way. It was impossible to not think of their impending conversation when it was within an hour of happening. Thank god the lecture only went for an hour. His forensics lecture went for three.

 

During the lecture he couldn’t help but wish things were different. He knew he couldn’t change anything but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish anyway.

 

He wished Merlin had never brought up the soul mate shit and they weren’t in this awkward situation.

 

He wished he had a mark.

 

He wished Merlin was telling the truth.

 

Wishing would do him no good, yet he couldn’t stop.

 

When the lecture had finally finished and Arthur knew no more about _Frankenstein_ then he had when he’d walked in, he made his way quickly out of the lecture hall, feeling slightly bad for all the people he pushed in his haste to make sure Merlin didn’t change his mind and leave before he could talk to him.

 

True to his word, Merlin was standing outside, leaning against the dark bricks of the lecture building, looking anything but nonchalant, his eyes darting around and his arms crossed over his chest, holding his mobile limply.

 

“Hi,” he said weakly when Merlin noticed him approaching. He straightened up, looking at him warily, but waved.

 

 “Look I’m sorry but I’m just really sensitive about the soul mate stuff alright. If we steer clear of that we should be good,” he said, relieved when Merlin nodded. But then he did something unexpected. He began typing into his mobile, eyes focused on its screen.

 

“I thought you said we were going to talk,” Arthur said, irritation flaring up in him. As much as he liked Merlin, he wasn’t going to stand being ignored.

 

He heard his phone buzz and retrieved it from the pocket of his jeans, squinting against the glare of the sun to read whatever messaged he’d received. Now was really not a good time.

 

To his further annoyance, the message was from Merlin and it read:

 

“That’s hardly the point. Why don’t you just tell me? Why do you need to text me? Talking is cheaper anyway.”

 

Merlin began typing again and Arthur sighed, eyes fixed on his phone screen for Merlin’s reply.

 

“What do you mean you can’t speak? Why can’t you?” he said once he’d read the message. Merlin began typing again, biting his lip anxiously. Whatever he’d written must have been very short because his phone buzzed within seconds.  

 

He read the message.

 

He stared at it, stunned.

 

Then he started laughing, laughing so hard, tears began leaking out of his eyes, to the point of hysteria even.

 

Merlin flinched, eyes darting around as if for an escape route and Arthur forced himself to calm down. Everyone was going to be alright, better than alright even. Everything was going to be amazing!

 

“Merlin,” he said, gripping him by the shoulders, looking intently into his eyes, the last vestiges of laughter gone as if they’d never been there to begin with. “You don’t understand. The soul mark procedure didn’t work on me; I don’t have a mark. I thought it was because I wasn’t meant to have a soul mate but you…you’re mute, that’s why.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened in enlightenment, his grief fading away. He began typing furiously into his phone. Arthur’s phone buzzed.

 

“More than I’ve ever been. That’s why I was so rude last night. I thought you were making fun of me.”

 

Merlin smiled, wide and brilliant, brighter than the sun shining above them as he typed his next message.

 

 

“Agreed,” Arthur said, practically giddy. He held out his arm for Merlin to take. “I’m Arthur, apparently your soul mate.”

 

Merlin took his hand and shook it, the both of them grinning like idiots.

 

“Would you fancy some coffee?”

                                      

Merlin nodded eagerly. Arthur grinned again and took his hand.

 

While some did not need or want this potential romantic love, he was so glad he had it, that he had Merlin.

 

Arthur knew, wherever his mother was now, that she would approve, for he was happy.

 

For what more could a mother want for her child?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone somewhat enjoyed this. I am aware that it is flawed but it was fun to write so I suppose that's all that matters.


End file.
